Love You to Death

Love You to Death Chapter 10

Summer in New York City was not pleasant at all. The whole city was almost all asphalt, the heat of the day permeating from the ground and in through your shoes. You wanted to melt into a puddle once you stepped foot onto it. All in all, the weather was unforgiving. It was July in the city.

I sat in my high-back chair in the living room, the air conditioner droning in the background as I typed up a report for Dr. Schmidt on my Macbook. I had my music player open in the background as I feverishly slammed my fingers into the keyboard, Metallica's Master of Puppets echoing off the walls in the room. I noticed I typed faster when I listened to metal. The same could be said about my driving, but I digress.

Each click of my fingers on the buttons of my keyboard was driving me wild. I think I was going nuts. The air conditioning couldn't keep up with the temperature outside and it was still a gross temperature inside my house. It was actually 83 degrees in my house, in fact. I was dressed in the shortest shorts I had, the denim material clinging to my skin. The crop top I was wearing was doing the same thing, morphing to the shape of my torso.

The report I was writing was all about Peter, of course. Why wouldn't it be? At the time I was writing this paper, I didn't realize what work I had really put in. Since coming to 1993 in April, I didn't feel like I learned a lot about Peter's personality, but boy was I wrong. It was 4:30 in the city that never sleeps and I had just typed up a 23 page report on Peter's psychological examination, the details I've written down in his folder now coming to life in this document that I was about to email to Dr. Schmidt. Unbeknownst to me, this document would be kept highly classified. I fiddled with my nose ring anxiously.

I readjusted myself in my seat, plucking the black, body-conforming fabric from my breasts and fanning myself. I took a sip of water that was sitting on the coffee table in front of me and got back to finishing up my paper. I typed up the email to Dr. Schmidt and I detailed the following:

Dr. Schmidt,
Here is my report on Peter. I hope this is enough. Peter is almost done completing the album "Bloody Kisses" with his bandmates. It is set to be released in August. I will update you further on what is going on.

Sincerely,
Rosemary Ivanov, CMHC

I read over my paper one more time, reading over the details of Peter's life. I learned about how Peter's sisters really helped mold him into the person he was. I learned of the girlfriend that Peter cut himself over. The part about him cutting got to me, as I understand what desperation he felt. I never told him about what had happened to me as a child, what unrelenting horrors I endured at the hand of a family friend. I have felt the same things Peter has felt. I didn't feel like it was necessary to tell him about what happened to me; not yet, not now. I'm here to help him and there is a reason I joined the field of psychology. I ran a finger through my hair and sighed deeply. The truth will come out in due time. I don't want what happened to me to overshadow what Peter is going through at the moment. The mission is still to save Peter. I still have time to save him.

I sent the email and let out a sigh of relief, glad that the report that I've been typing up over the past 5 days was finally complete. The sigh of relief was temporary, though. I could relax, but only for a little. I still have to take case notes on Peter. I mentally noted to myself that when Peter goes on tour I still have to take notes. I have to take notes all of the time. Anything that he does I record at the end of the day. I huffed in frustration. This is just like being in college, but what did I expect? That this would be like a vacation? No, I'm trying to save someone's life. "Move to the City" by Guns N' Roses came through the speakers on my computer. I laughed lightly to myself and printed off my report to put in Peter's file.

Like I said, Peter was busy in the studio completing the masterpiece Bloody Kisses. That album, besides October Rust, were my favorite albums released by Type O Negative. I even had those albums on vinyl. Countless hours have been spent on this record, and the only reason why I know that is because Peter has told me over my dinner multiple times. It's not that I didn't know that he had spent a lot of his time writing this record, but it was a first-hand account of what he was doing that I noted in my file folder of his.